People Watching

I love to stop when I am out and get lunch at the mall so I can enjoy a little people watching. It is endlessly fascinating to me. I love to see couples in their 70s and 80s holding hands and clearly still in love. I have noticed an interesting phenomenon with really beautiful women too. You really often see a jaw droppingly gorgeous woman happily walking and holding hands with a really plain guy. I admit I think maybe the beautiful women tried really handsome guys and found a lot of them more in love with themselves but the average guys treat their girlfriends better. Just a idle guess, but the people who really make me laugh are usually young people who clearly think they are really "cool". It's the guys in the saggy pants and over sized shirts and giant baggy shorts. At what point does a young guy look in a mirror and suddenly decide he looks sexy and dangerous by looking like a baby with a big load in his diaper. I saw a twenty something year old with his pants sagging, showing his underwear walk past a eighty something year old guy whose pants sagged exactly the same. Really? This looks sexy? Nothing about the filled diaper look seems sexy to me. I like jeans that show off a nice butt!
The opposite of the saggy pants look is the girlfriends of the saggers. They seem to favor the "if I can squeeze myself into it, it fits" theory. You see girls whose pants are so tight they can't even get them up and rolls of fat hang over the waist band. This is hot? Their shirts are also tight so every roll of fat is emphasized and jiggling as they strut past.
I was sitting next to a table of college age guys and they too were people watching. I heard one of them point out a girl that was passing. He said she wasn't bad looking and he thought she might even look hot if she had on clothes that fit her. See? I'm not the only one.
The problem though is that I am me. Sometimes I get so amused I get involved. I saw a young man strutting around showing off his dirty diaper look. As I passed him I gave him a big smile and said, "Oh my, you're just so cute," you should have seen his face. I bet he went straight home and burned his outfit! I am an evil old lady.

Jack and My Interesting Life

I have written about my puppy Jack and my interesting life. (Getting glued to a theater seat certainly is interesting!) Jack, six months old now, is still the smartest pup I've ever met and the most stubborn. He has pretty much stopped chewing on my arms, but he still plays way, way too rough with my Bichons. He actually throws them up in the air then catches them. Not all that much fun for the bichons. Working hard to get his "playfulness" under control. None of the dogs ever try to stop him, even as they get bruised and chewed. He does keep life interesting.
Case in point. Last night I fell asleep on the couch watching TV. Around 5AM Jack decided he needed to go out. Like a good pup he attempted to wake me up. I had left the foot rest up on the couch so he put his front paws on that and began to lick my face. I started to wake up but hadn't moved so he decided to jump onto the footrest. Well, as his weight (around 60 lbs now) landed full on the footrest I suddenly found myself on the floor with a huge leather couch on top of me. Not a wake up method I would recommend! I have knee replacements and they are pretty old, so getting up at best is problematic. Had to lift the couch off me, twist around, but another problem....bare feet on smooth hard wood floors! Ice should be so slippery! My dear family blissfully slept through the crash, my groaning, my calls for help, Jack's startled yelps, my repeated slips and crashes back to the floor. Nevertheless, I am super woman. Made it up, let the sweet pup out and back in, got out the aspirin and went back to bed. Husband looked puzzled in the morning at my hysterical laughter when he asked me if I'd slept well.
Never a dull moment.

The son in law

I am beginning to think my son in law Paul is a wee bit disrespectful. He addresses me as "the old coot". That's not too bad. After all a coot is a rather attractive duck, but I'm thinking he might not be using the term in that vein. His subtle mentions of things like, did I have a pet dinosaur growing up and did I mind giving up my horse for a horseless carriage, are beginning to make me think he might be thinking that I'm old. Me! Old?!
On my birthday this month I knew he was thinking about me because I saw a post on Facebook from him. He was asking if anyone knew of an app that mimicked ancient runes chiseled on rock. He said he was trying to find a medium I could relate to. Really, Paul.  A note neatly inked with a quill would have been just fine.